This Changes Things
by tiff098765
Summary: Brought by the murder of Eli David, the bond between friends and partners is cemented, changing things between Tony and Ziva. Tiva, no smut.
1. Chapter 1

_Well, look at me, writing an NCIS story instead of a Castle story. I hope you like it. This is a Tony & Ziva story, should stay close to canon, and could possibly have sex but will not have smut._

* * *

It just didn't make sense. So many times, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he had a chance with her. He would seriously consider making a move, then she'd surely and completely insult his ability as a man. Whether it was laughing at his suggestion that women actually want to be with him, or mocking his inability to commit to one woman, or poking fun at his professional imperfections… he knew she'd never feel for him what he felt for her.

It was a fact. He had accepted it long ago. He had forced himself to not act on it. They were partners and usually friends. A romantic relationship could have gotten in the way of the Job, or even broken up the team if it didn't work out. He knew better. Pursuing her was against the rules and could jeopardize NCIS's A-team and ruin the little family they've created.

So he had promised himself to never give in and tell her how much he cared.

…

She found him attractive at first glance; then he opened his mouth and she realized that he was an idiot in a nice suit. For all she knew of Gibbs's team, she could not fathom how this man-child had secured a spot on it. He was shallow and self-absorbed and had to be ordered around in order to accomplish anything. He was a nuisance.

She was never sure when it started, but he grew on her. When she first realized it, she considered it to be like realizing you have ringworm, a fungus, a parasite. Unwanted, but already under her skin. But, still, he grew on her. She caught herself laughing at his jokes – and tried to quiet her laughs before he noticed. She failed. He noticed. The twinkle in his eye when he caught her laughing always gave her a little flutter in her chest.

And she actually considered sleeping with him. In Mossad, it was normal. Even the CIA encouraged it. If you were sleeping with a fellow agent, you weren't bringing an outsider into your circle of trust. And everybody has to get laid sometimes.

But her first allegiance (in America) was to Gibbs. She shot her own brother in Gibbs's basement, and that bond was more valuable than finding out just how fun Tony might be in bed. And Gibbs had a rule about sleeping with co-workers.

So anytime she caught him looking at her in a way that made her feel warm inside, she'd call him out on whatever BS he was dishing out at the time. He just made it so _easy_. Really, if he didn't want to get mocked, why would he keep saying such juvenile things?

But he kept getting under her skin, more and more. It made her angry – because she wanted him there and hated him there at the same time. The more she refused him, the more she wanted him. He would act like he wanted her – only her – so she'd start to let him in; then he'd have a fling with some bimbo, and she'd feel jealousy begin to prick at her heart. She had a job to do, and, damn it, she didn't need the complication of wanting him and being furious with him at the same time.

So she left.

…

And he came after her. He figured out that she was alive and someone was hurting her, and he went after her.

Clearly under the influence of a truth serum of some sort, she asked him how much he cared for her.

He refused to answer.

…

They stayed in flux like that – almost stepping over the line, almost taking a chance, almost acting on their growing feelings – for another three long years. Partly out of a sense of duty to Gibbs's Rules; mostly out of fear of losing their partnership that sometimes felt like the best friendship they've ever had, should the other reject them.

...

Then her childhood friend shot her father to death, and her heart-wrenching cry of "_Abba!"_ echoed in his dreams, so he made it his mission to be everything to her that she would let him be.

…

He told her. After they cleared out for McGee and the others to catalog the crime scene, Tony pulled her aside with a gentle tug at her wrist. Bushes from Vance's neighbor's yard shielded most of the flashing red and blue glare. Tears still streaked down her cheeks, her eyes bounced around looking at everything but him, while his hands slid up her arms to steady her. Finally, once she was fairly certain she wouldn't crumble, she lifted her eyes to meet his steady gaze.

She saw pure concern and affection. And she crumbled.

She swayed just a bit toward him, and he pulled her in instantly, wrapped his arms around her, and held her. Embraced her. She wept on his shirt, and he held her. When her weeping quieted to muffled sobs, he whispered, "_Oh, Ziva. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I've got you. I've got you, Ziva."_

They stood like that for several minutes – her trying to reign in her emotions, him whispering that he had her and wasn't leaving her – until she finally took a few deep breaths without crying. He kissed her temple and, with one arm still wrapped snug around her back, lifted her chin so she'd look him in the eye. He gently wiped the tears from her face and promised, "We'll get whoever did this. They won't get away with it."

"I know, Tony. It is what we do. It is what our team does best." But her attempt at emotional distance fell flat, and her eyes began to well with tears again. She clenched her teeth and inhaled deeply to clear them away.

"That's not what I mean. Our team is great, but I meant you and me. We'll get through this together… and I'll make damn sure whoever did this to you pays."

He kept looking into her eyes, the compassion barely masking a fierceness, and she knew deep down that- for him- this isn't about finding who killed her father, but finding the one who made her cry. In that moment, she knows that he'd do anything for her. And he told her just that.

…

He drives her home, fully intending to stay the night to be her shoulder to cry on. He follows her into her apartment without being invited, helps himself to her fridge pulls out a bottled water for each of them, and catches her staring off onto space with her bottom lip quivering. He catches her in another warm, reassuring hug and rocks them softy until she calms again. Yet she remains silent, just as she was the whole ride home.

He pulls back and nudges her hair out of her face with his thumb. "Tell me what you need right now. Let me take care of you."

She leans up against his chest and stays, letting him hold her. She lets the heat from him and the scent of him and the sound of his steady heartbeat settle her whirring mind before she pulls away. He keeps contact, sliding his hands down her arms when she takes a step back, until her hands are in his.

"Tony, I need you on the case. He… he should be buried before sundown tomorrow. I am sure that I will not be permitted to take him home tomorrow, but I will spend my day trying to get clearance for transport as quickly as possible. Please, Tony, please find us some leads. I need to focus on burying my father."

He nods. "I can do that. But right now, you should eat a little. We'll get something in our stomachs and get a little rest. There's nothing much we can do right now."

"No. I do not think I could eat. It is mid-day in Israel. I have phone calls to make. Please, go home, get some sleep… so you can find my father's killer in the morning."

"You sure?" He looked into her, making her feel vulnerable and safe all at once.

"Yes, Tony. I could not sleep anyway." Her voice was the softest he'd ever heard it.

He lifted his hand, caressed her cheek with one knuckle, and nodded. "Okay."

…

He went home. He showered. He grabbed food he could eat on the way (breaking his no-food-in-the-car rule), and he went on in to work.

…

The little sleep he got the next night was interrupted by her cry, "_Abba!_" more than once. He woke with a wet pillow, dampened by the tears shed in his sleep, the ones he'd held back while being strong for her as his own heart was breaking for her.

* * *

_So? What do you think? Please let me know!_


	2. Chapter 2

She made calls. Family; friends. The ones who could be trusted with the information, that is. It was a very short list of names. But Shmeil never answered. It went to voice mail every time. After the fifth try, she huffed in frustration and decided she needed a distraction.

She went to the office. Obviously, she wouldn't be expected and would probably be sent right back home, but she needed the comfort of normalcy. She wasn't there five minutes before Tony was herding her into a private spot to check on how she was holding up.

His tender caress on her arm made her heart stutter, and she wanted to just fall against him again to simply be held. No matter what else she may have felt for him, he was her best friend, and he gave really good hugs.

But she didn't think it would be appropriate to stand there hugging him under the stairs mere steps away from the bullpen, so she lied, "I'm fine, Tony. I'll be fine."

…

"What are you doing here, Ziva?" Gibbs took a moment to make sure she wasn't falling part. He wasn't being unkind, but her investigating this mere hours after her father was killed would jeopardize the case. Gibbs glanced at DiNozzo in silent question; Tony nodded back that he was taking care of her.

"Go home. Or somewhere. We'll call you when we have something." His gentle tone softened his words. He stepped in closer and offered a reassuring half-smile. "Ziva. We've got this." He knew she'd be back, but he could at least minimize her presence for the time being.

…

Tony bought her lunch. It was far from the first time; but, this time, it felt like he was babysitting her. He was a little too close, a little too familiar, and watched her a little too closely.

She had arrangements to make. She ignored Tony's staring and tried Shmiel's number again. Voicemail again.

"Uuggh." Her frustration was growing, along with her concern. What if Shmeil had been gunned down as well?

"What?"

"It is nothing."

"Clearly." He rolled his eyes at her obvious lie.

"Could you stop staring at me, Tony?"

"I can. I just want to help."

"I know. I am sorry. I cannot get a family friend on the phone. I cannot get clearance to transport my father's body. I _cannot do anything_ to help find his killer. I am sitting in a bistro, doing _nothing_, and I _cannot deal with having to make YOU feel like everything is fine. Everything is NOT FINE!"_

Several patrons gawked as Ziva lost her temper then forced herself to calm down again. Tony simply waited.

Silently, he sipped his tea.

Deep in thought, he finally pondered aloud, "Do you hit your head in your Mini? I mean, it's tiny, but it's kind of tall. Is it like the TARDIS on 'Doctor Who;' it's bigger on the inside?"

"_What?_"

"How would I look in a Mini? Guys can still look hot driving one, right? If you ever want to sell it, I think I'd be interested in buying it."

"Oh, be serious." Her baffled look was evidence that his diversionary tactic had worked, and she was calming down from her outburst.

"I'm serious. Your car would look good on me."

She rolled her eyes and picked at her sandwich.

…

Tony wanted so badly to take her back to his apartment (she'd never been inside), wrap her up in a blanket, and hold her on the couch in front of a good movie and let her cry until her father's body was ready to be put on a plane. So what if it was his sanctuary – it could be her sanctuary, too. If he thought there was any chance she'd allow that to happen, he'd offer. But he needed to be working the case. That was the only way he could help her right then.

_Aw hell… why not ask?_

"Ziva? Do you want to go somewhere? Just me & you? Even if it's just to my place. Or yours?"

She didn't think about it. She shook her head no. She stood and walked away, leaving him alone at the table. All she could think was, _I know what I do when I feel alone and out of control. I do not want it to be like that with you. I do not want pity sex from you._

…

He went back to the office. He expected her to be there right behind him and not actually stay away like Gibbs told her.

They talked to their mole in Jerusalem, the flirtatious Gabrielle; DiNozzo mocked McGee for not jumping on that "hot Israeli action" (pot-kettle-black), and they went after the millionaire behind an anti-Israel group who had threatened Eli.

He called Ziva to update her. She didn't answer.

He interrogated the suspect, Vance interrupted & got put on admin leave, and he called again.

Still, she didn't answer.

They got some answers that mostly put them back at square one. He called a third time.

Same result.

"McGee. Ping Ziva's cell. Where is she?"

McGee laughed. "No way. She'd kill me."

"I need to make sure she's okay. She hasn't slept, she's alone, and I just want to check on her."

"Then maybe she's not answering the phone because she's finally sleeping."

"She's not. _Just ping her damn phone_."

McGee nodded. "On it."

…

He heard her quietly singing from the other side of the door. Then she began to pray. She was justifiably angry with God. He knew he should wait until she was done, but he couldn't help himself. She asked for a sign as he snuck in the door.

"Show me a sign that I should not lose hope." The sound of the door softly closing startled her from her prayer. Tony. She wasn't sure if she was more irritated by him showing up, interrupting her prayer, or that he showed up when she asked God for a sign that would give her hope. What more could she hope for with Tony DiNozzo?

All he could do was explain how he found her and hope it comforted her that he cared enough to seek her out. "I should have known. Here you are."

He knows her faith is important. Her Jewishness isn't just culture and religion, but true faith. He knows that about her. And he knows that moments like this create a crisis of faith.

"What do you want_?" Go away. You can't help. Not how I want you to help._

"I want whatever you want. Whatever you need. A friend to talk to, a shoulder to cry on."

She flinched at the word "friend." That's not what she needs from him.

"I am done crying."

And he melts. "_Ziva.._. I am sorry."

"I appreciate that. But sympathy is the last thing I want right now."

So he closes the distance between them, ready to give anything of himself. "Okay, then. Tell me. What can I do? What do you need?"

_Anything. Everything. _She feels it in his answer and lets go of her irritation. She trusts him. She asks what she can ask of no one else.

"Revenge."

…

Of course, Tony was right there with her when the call came in that she could take her father home. He insisted on taking her to the airfield.

Shmeil greeted her at the gate, and all the sudden, she realized that she hadn't been able to reach him because he'd been in the air, flying to meet her here simply to keep her company on the flight back. Tony did this, she was sure of it.

"You don't have to do this." His voice snapped her from her thankful sentiment, letting her know that he understood her well enough to know she'd be hunting down her father's killer every moment she was gone, pausing only for the funeral. He wouldn't be there to distract her with inane conversations about Minis or other nonsense. He wouldn't be there to have her back if she found who did it.

"Tony, I am going to bury my father." As if that talk of revenge had never happened.

Damn if he didn't want to go with her, to be there when she broke in the lonely darkness of a hotel room, to do anything to just be there for her. He told her - in her native Hebrew, so she'd understand that he'd do anything for her, including learn her language at a local synagogue just to understand her better - he told her, "You are not alone."

He hoped she understood all he put into those three little words.

…

The old man's voice was hard to discern over the engine noise, but, straining, she caught his question the second time he asked: "Why isn't that boy coming with you?"

"What boy, Shmeil?"

"That Tony. He called me minutes after… it happened, and asked me to come take you home. He didn't want you to be alone. While I am honored to be at your side, I have to ask… why isn't he in this seat?"

"He is doing his job, finding out who killed my father. Is that not more important than sitting next to me on a plane?"

The wrinkled lips puckered as he considered his answer. "I am not so sure one is more important than the other to a person who cares so much for you."

"Tony? No, he does not care for me the way you are implying. He is my partner, my best friend. That is all."

"You underestimate him, dear. Because he is your partner and best friend, and you are his, is precisely why he cares about you so much. I saw how you were looking at each other before we boarded. The two of you are much more than you claim to be."

Ziva blushed a deep rose. "Shmeil. We are not _involved._"

"Sure, you're not, dear." He patted her hand reassuringly, clearly not believing a word she'd said.

* * *

_Hi, I'm Tiff, and I'm a review addict. _


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey. Did I wake you up? Sorry. I know it's late in Israel."

"No, Tony, I am having dinner with a contact. Do you have anything new?"

"Not yet. I was just calling to see how the funeral was and how you're holding up. Maybe we could turn on a movie and watch it together. Well, part of one - I'm finally taking a lunch break. I know it's not the same… as if… if we were together… but, you know, it would be something."

"That is sweet, but no. I might get some information here. The funeral was nice. I planted an olive tree. There is not much to tell."

"Oh. Well… if you need to talk, I'm here."

"I know. Good night, Tony."

"'Night, Ziva."

Ziva clicked her phone off and stared out the window. _Except you are _not_ here, Tony. You are on the other side of the world._

She sighed and went back to her dinner company.

"So, Adam, you were saying this might have been done by someone in Mossad?"

"Maybe. There are whispers. Ziva, you need to be extra careful. We do not yet know if you were targeted as well. You should not even be staying alone tonight. Especially not here."

"I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. But, you should at least allow me to sleep on the couch. It would make me feel better."

"Fine. If you wish. Do you have any other information?"

"Not yet. Do you mind if I turn on a movie?"

She sighed. "Go ahead. I do not think I will be able to sleep anyway."

She retreated to the tiny bedroom, sat on the bed, and tried to read until Adam called to her. "I know you're not sleeping. Come watch with me. You need a distraction."

She sighed again and joined him on the couch.

"I'm sorry," he said, grabbing the remote, "this was an insensitive choice. I'll change it."

"No. Don't. It is oddly comforting." She settled in to watch Dr. No with him, with Connery saying for the first time, "Shaken, not stirred." She zoned out, thinking how she should be watching this with Tony. Not all alone. Alone with Adam.

He got her wine glass from the table and refilled it. "Here. You need to relax."

* * *

_ How am I doing? Let me know in that little box down there!_


	4. Chapter 4

_If you didn't notice that I re-arranged bits of the episode "Shiva" back in chapter 2, well, I did. I hope it didn't bother you. This chapter is why I did it._

* * *

She rolls over, eyes closed, hearing the shower in the adjoining bathroom... she smiles, still mostly asleep. A combination of memories of James Bond and sleeping in Tony's bed enveloped by his scent warms her, wakes her up with the memory of what they did last night. Her eyes crack open when the shower shuts off; she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings; her smile fades.

This is not Tony's room. It's a hotel room in Tel Aviv. And the weariness in her legs is not from him (though, everytime her eyes closed, her mind's eye saw him), it's from the man humming in her bathroom. Adam. Damn.

She woke up the morning before in Tony's room, in his tiny bed, in his arms. She could have had sex with him, but she did not want to use him like she had just used Adam: short-term comfort for a long-term pain. Tony was more than that.

_He'd come into his room where she slept when he heard her having a nightmare - dreaming that she'd caught the Swiss mercenary before he'd swallowed the poison - she woke ready to fight. He tried to comfort her, but she insisted she was fine._

_"No, you're not, Ziva. But that's okay."_

_"Yes, I am, Tony. I am perfectly fine. Do _not_ try to tell me how I feel."_

_"Okay. You're fine... just like at lunch? We're alone. You're allowed to be an emotional mess. I won't tell anyone." He smirked a little, trying to lighten the mood._

_Ziva swallowed hard, trying to get the lump out of her throat and force the lie out of her mouth again... but she couldn't. He was using his puppy-dog eyes on her, but he wasn't faking his concern. She let out a shaky sigh, sat up, and leaned over to him. He immediately knelt down and wrapped his arms around her._

_She didn't cry. She gripped his shirt tightly in her fist and tried to regroup. He leaned her back and slid onto his bed with her, never letting his embrace loosen. On the single-person bed, they clung to each other tightly, like she could absorb some of his strength if she just held him close enough._

_Ziva buried her head against his neck and listened to his pulse - strong and steady, like the man it belongs to. He was murmuring to her words like, "It's okay," "I'm here," "You're safe," and "I've got you." He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, and she didn't let go._

_But there was one moment. One moment where she pulled back and, overwhelmed by the affection he was showing, when she wanted to give in. Their eyes locked, then her eyes flicked to his lips. He saw, and he wanted it, he could feel his reaction instantly beginning to form. But he smiled softly and whispered, "You're not fine yet. Let's get some sleep."_

_He leaned his head on top of hers and held her until morning._

But she's sore from rough, life-affirming sex with someone else. And she decides to tell herself that she's okay with that. The bathroom door swings open and Adam walks out wearing only a towel.

He smiles - nearly smirks - in his self-assured way that Tony also smiles. _Well,_ she tells herself, _at least he is very good looking. This is nothing shameful._

Adam sees her looking at his strong chest (he's quite proud of his pecs) and knows that she can't help but notice his washboard abs and low-slung towel. He struts to the empty side of the bed, expecting to coax her into another round; last night was very hot, after all. But as soon as he leans onto the mattress, she stands and heads to the bathroom.

Over her shoulder, she asks, "When do you think your contacts will have information? Are they close?"

"Nothing is sure. Maybe a day. Time will tell. Time we can spend distracting you from this ugly business."

She hesitates before she answers - not because she's considering spending the day being "distracted" by him, but because he had the audacity to suggest it. "Thank you, but no. Last night was a lovely distraction. I am ready to get back to work."

He chuckles. "_'Lovely_' she says."

He usually gets a better adjective than that. Either he's slipping, or... or she's already got someone else she'd rather be with. Interesting. He wouldn't expect that from Ziva.

* * *

When she comes out of the bathroom, she's showered and dressed, and (thankfully) Adam is fully clothed and talking on his phone. Ziva's phone rings; she answers with, "Gibbs. Did you find something?"

Adam ends his call so that he can listen to her end of her conversation. If Gibbs found something, he can feed the intel to his people and find the rogue agents that much faster. Unconfirmed rogue agents, that is. The ones he didn't mention to Ziva.

She's translating a word for Gibbs, but so far he doesn't follow why. Until she gets to the Hebrew meaning. And he thinks he knows who's in charge of the rogue agents. He dials a number on his own phone, feeding a name to someone that's not Ziva.

But she figures it out anyway, as he's walking out the door to speak out of her earshot:

"Bodnar. That's Ilan Bodnar's middle name. Gibbs, it's Bodnar!"

_"DiNozzo, McGee, where is Bodnar?"_

She listens as they frantically try and pull up information, and hears Tony sounding so very far away saying, _"He's in the wind, boss. He jumped on a plane two days ago after he left here, and we don't know where he ended up. Damn."_

Damn. She hung up and turned, expecting to find Adam still listening. But he was gone. Damn.

She stuck her head out of the hotel room door and found him in the hallway shoving his phone into his pocket. "Adam, it was Bodnar. See if anyone knows where he is."

"I've already made the call. They're pulling security footage now."

"We should be there to help."

"You don't have clearance anymore. You have to sit here and wait."

* * *

Two hours pass, and there's no word. Adam's bored and wants a distraction - there are better was to pass the time than watching her pace the floor. He smiles at Ziva reassuringly (he genuinely does want to help her), and moves to lightly massage her shoulders when she finally drops on the couch.

But she shrugs him off, pulls out her phone, and calls Tony.

"We don't have anything yet," he answers, softly, knowing the question on her mind, "all we have are the airport security photos. But we lose him after that. How ya holdin' up? And don't say 'fine.'"

"I am managing. I would like answers. I would like Bodnar's head on a pike. But I am pacing around this room, waiting."

* * *

Adam's contact calls him after another two hours, and she gets hopeful.

But when he hangs up the phone, he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Ziva. We have the same photos that NCIS has, and there are none that indicate where he is now. It looks like he's in Europe. So now we track his assets and wait for money to start moving. This... may take weeks."

"Then I'm going home."

* * *

Adam is even more surprised when he realizes that "home" is Washington, DC, not her family's home in Tel Aviv.

He watches her book a flight on her computer and listens as she calls Tony again to see if he'll pick her up from the airport.

_She could take a cab. This Tony must be the one she'd rather be with._

* * *

He insists on driving her to the airport. He asks about her NCIS team as they drive then wait for the flight. Skilled at pulling information through a normal conversation, he learns much about McGee and Abby, Gibbs and Ducky, poor director Vance and his children, and Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. He's quite sure he's never seen her look so soft when she talked about a colleague, or anyone for that matter. She obviously loves her team like family, Gibbs like a father, and Tony as much more than her best friend.

When, finally, her flight is ready for boarding, he gives her a tight hug, knowing this Tony is a very lucky man. He's not jealous... much.

"Thank you, Adam, for everything."

"Any time, Ziva. Be careful."

* * *

_Please review! I love reviews like the Duck Dynasty men love their guns!_


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs is onto her first. He never expected Ziva to back off, to not look. He notices the quiet calls with quick hangups, and he never says a word. He figures Vance is doing the same.

It doesn't take long before Tim has unspecified obligations whenever Tony asks what his geeky plans are for the evening - though DiNozzo doesn't notice that McGee's plans are on the same nights that Ziva tells Tony that her plans are not any of his business.

_So, Tim is helping Ziva. And Tony is oblivious. I hope this doesn't blow up in their faces._

But Gibbs never mentions it... for two reasons: he trusts them to not get in too deep without asking for his help, and he and Vance just might need plausible deniability if other agencies find out that Ziva and Tim are investigating. Well, the second is more for Vance - he feels pretty secure that he won't get in trouble for it.

But it's almost a game; at times he's tempted to prod Tony along to help him figure out the situation. But he keeps a watchful eye (more practiced and unnoticeable than the younger agents' obvious snooping) and a closed mouth. And he waits.

...

Tony thinks he's being sneaky, looking at Ziva's things while she's away from her desk, checking the caller ID history on her phone, asking about her plans. He hopes she doesn't suspect he's prying. He asks about Tim's plans, too - as if he cares - to look like he's not semi-stalking her. Though he has called her at home several times just to check on her.

He hopes she'll come to him for help.

_"You are not alone." What does she think that means? She's hunting down her father's killer, all alone, when I'd be willing to help. Thrilled, even. And McGoo says I'm over-reacting, but can't he see what's going on here? Why does everyone keep acting like she's fine? She's hunting Bodner, and she'll find him, and what if she goes after him all alone?_

He tells himself he's not being creepy; he's just worried about her. He debates whether or not it's over the line to drive by her apartment to check for bullet holes when she doesn't answer her phone.

...

Abby asks Tim on another non-date, again. He has plans, again. Helping a friend. She wonders if he's got a secret girlfriend and has to tell herself not to be jealous. Ziva has been unavailable a lot lately, too, and she's pretty sure that Ziva's spending all of her free time trying to hunt down Bodnar. Yet neither of her friends will give her straight answers, so she resolves to mind her own business.

...

Tony can't take it anymore. He can't take knowing she doing this alone. He wants to help. He wants to be there for her. He wants to be her knight in shining armor... as if she needs a knight. Sidekick, maybe. Whatever. He wants to be it for her.

_Shit. I want to be IT for her. She's it for me. She's the one I want._

The realization hits him, slams into him, this sudden definition of how much he cares. He loves her. Completely. Shit.

And he can't let her keep doing this alone. She is _not_ alone as long as he's alive.

...

Gibbs senses that Tony must have reached the tipping point as soon as he walks up to his desk. The work day has been over for nearly two hours, but Tony came back, pacing.

"Spit it out, Tony." _Good, he's worried. He's asking for permission to butt into Ziva's life? That's a first. _"You worried about her? Then go find her, DiNozzo. NOW."

...

Abby knew it, knew it, knew it. Tony disappears out of her lab with the address of where to find Ziva and a plan to call back when he gets to the building for guidance straight to the door. She watches him go and has an idea. A hunch, really. And she pings Tim's phone.

_Well. Huh. He _is_ with Ziva._

She worries her bottom lip wondering if she should tell Tony. But she doesn't know why, maybe Tim's just worried like Tony is. But nobody's worried like Tony is. Or maybe Tim's helping her. That'll hurt Tony's feelings, and she doesn't want to be to one to tell him. _Maybe Tim will leave before Tony gets there_. She says a little prayer to whomever is listening for her friends. And she hopes Tony doesn't tell on her for pinging the phone.

...

Ziva opens the door with her gun pointed at his head, and he's not even surprised. He doesn't even acknowledge it. He just looks at her. She opens the door.

"I want to help." _Stop shutting me out._

"'S that the food?" comes from behind her.

_Tim? What the hell?_

...

Ziva watches while Tim defends them to Tony, defends their secret and their lies, and Tony... well it stings to see the confusion and hurt on his face. She waits for his reaction, hopes she didn't break their already-confused relationship, tries to not stare at the floor in shame. Because why should she be ashamed? It's _her_ life. She didn't have to include him.

That's what she'd been telling herself for weeks. Yet, she has to pull her gaze from the floor to watch him again. She should have included him and she knows it. She also knows she couldn't have handled the closeness and solitude and the thrill of the hunt without giving in to her feelings for him. So she called on Tim instead since he was safe.

Had she done this all alone, and Tony had showed up with his "I want to help," and put his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes and asked why she hadn't come to him for help... she'd be done for. She knows it. _She's dreamt about it_.

Tony looks around the room, all their work, done without him. He mocks them - a defense mechanism, she knows, but she's not going to let him do it.

He diverts to chastising them for tracking a CIA target and jeopardizing their jobs... even though that's exactly what he showed up to do. They all know it.

So she ends the argument before it escalates by telling him what they've found. He's interested and wants to help, no matter how hurt he's feeling, and she knows he'll be professional enough to set his feelings aside and listen.

He tells them how they could be wrong, mostly out of spite.

But she responds with, "Ilan Bodnar is not dead. He is alive. And I will not stop until I find him."

This, he knows, is true; it's exactly why he's been so worried. But since Tim is here, and since it's probably the most prudent tactic, he asks, "So when are you going to tell Gibbs?"

...

The tension is obvious, but Gibbs still won't ask. He's waiting as always. He knows Tony's in on it now - that much is obvious. Plus, Abby told him about her pinging Ziva's phone. (She needed to tell him to clear her conscience.) They keep giving each other uneasy looks... and he watches, finally rolls his eyes, and turns to ignore them.

Ziva finally comes to him like a scared little girl.

"What, Ziva?"

She asks permission to go to Europe, and, like Abby, confesses her secret.

"I know." He looks bored; she looks floored. "You needed to be ready to tell me."

She is stunned by his patience & care. _What if Father had had Gibbs's quality of character?_ she wonders.

"He's in Rome."

"That's what I thought, too," she responds in awe, wondering how long he has known and how long he would have let her keep searching.

"What are you waiting for? Take DiNozzo. Go."

DiNozzo accepts it without question, as if he expected it. McGee wonders if he's not getting to go because he's being punished for helping her with her secret investigation. Gibbs knows DiNozzo will protect her fiercely... and that their relationship could use a kick in the pants.

Vance knows Ziva will most likely kill Bodnar and waits for her to notice that he's watching the exchange, then nods his approval. _Kill the S.O.B., Ziva. Make him pay._

* * *

_Reviews, please?_


End file.
